Actions
by ImJustEmilia
Summary: Greg's drunken actions speak very loudly to Grissom. Now filled with smutty goodness!
1. Chapter 1

Gil/Greg slash 

Actions

It wasn't the kind of place he frequented often, but tonight Greg Sanders needed it. The smoky air and the burn of the Tequila at the back of his throat was a comfort to him. Especially tonight. Today had been the worst day of his career. He'd failed his proficiency, and disappointed his self in the process. The worst part of it all though was that he disappointed the one person whose opinion he actually gave a damn about. Grissom.

He wasn't sure why he idolized Gil so much. Maybe it was just a nasty case of hero worship, or something equally inane. It didn't much matter what it was, it didn't change the fact that he'd let Gil down. He'd seen it in the older man's eyes when he'd delivered the news to him earlier. There was a flicker of something else there too, something Greg couldn't identify. Probably pity he reasoned to him self.

"Hey," he said attracting the bartender's attention. "Lemme get another."

"You sure that's such a good idea?" asked a voice behind him. He didn't bother to turn around, knowing what he'd see. One Dr. Gilbert Grissom standing in the middle of a shady bar in the heart of Las Vegas looking completely out of his element.

"Let me guess," Greg started, licking salt off the back of his hand. "You just happened to be in the neighborhood and decided 'what the hell? Haven't heard any good blues in a while." Greg swallowed the shot that had just been placed in front of him, and began to chew on a slice of lime.

"Actually I was looking for you." Greg felt the barstool next to him shift, and didn't have to look up to know that Grissom was next to him.

"Well you found me," he said dryly, not looking at his boss. He refused to admit that it gave him a slight thrill to know Grissom had been looking for him.

"That I did," Grissom agreed. "Are you drinking because you failed your proficiency, or because you enjoy analyzing DNA with a raging hang over?"

Greg rolled his eyes. What a time for this guy to develop a sense of humor. "I am drinking just for the hell of it. I'm not drunk." Yet.

"What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say."

"Look Gris, I know it's your MO and all, but maybe we could skip the cryptic quotes. Just for tonight."

"Fair enough. How much have you had?" Gil asked gesturing to the glass in Greg's hand.

"This makes seven," the younger man told him tossing down another shot.

Grissom nodded and laid a few bills down on the bar top. "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

"Nice gesture, but I'm not leaving yet. I'm having too much fun right here with all my new friends," Greg slurred pointing to all the empty stools around them.

"You're definitely done here. Can you stand?" Gil watched as the younger man slowly got off the barstool, and swayed a bit. He wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him, "You okay Greggo?"

"Sure, I'm just a cheap drunk." Greg was only vaguely aware of being led to the door, and buckled into the passenger seat of Gil's Tahoe. "What about my car?"

Gil looked around the parking lot, "Which one is yours?"

"The gorgeous red Camero."

"Greg, the only Camero I see is that one," he pointed to a beat up red car.

Greg leaned forward and focused his eyes, "Yep that's Greta. 1986 was a great year for Cameros don't you think?"

Grissom arched an eyebrow, but didn't answer the question. "Where do you live Greg?"

"7-B."

"What apartment building Greg?" Grissom asked exasperated.

"Same as Sara."

"You live in Sara's building?"

"Oh yeah," Greg said leaning back against the headrest.

Grissom shook his head and drove to the familiar building. He looked over to find Greg sound asleep with his face pressed against the window. He sighed loudly and climbed out of the SUV. He opened the passenger side door causing Greg to fall against the graying man's chest. Grissom sat him up and reached across his lap to undo the seatbelt.

"I knew you had a thing for me."

Grissom looked up in surprise. Greg was staring back at him. "Uh oh, hit a nerve. It's okay Gris, I'm an extremely good looking man, and I have a sparkling personality."

Grissom stared incredulously at the young man in front of him. "Greg you're drunk." Grissom pulled him out of the Tahoe and to his feet.

"And you're…straight?"

"I didn't say that." They walked towards the building, Greg stumbling alongside his boss.

"So you're gay then?"

"I didn't say that either."

"Oh," Greg said like it had just dawned on him. "You're not a can, no labels."

"Do you have keys to the front door?"

"Right here," Greg announced pulling a key ring out of his pocket. He unlocked the door with amazing dexterity, and began to climb up the stairs on all fours. Gil grudgingly followed and found Greg waiting at the top of the stairs singing softly. Gil took the key ring out of Greg's hand and unlocked the door to 7-B. He hesitantly opened the door, unsure of what he would find. He was surprised to see a normal looking living room with a black sectional, a big screen TV, and various framed movie posters hanging on the walls.

"Scary huh?" Greg asked close to his ear.

"It's not what I expected," Gil admitted.

"My mom decorated it for me," Greg said walking past Grissom. He shrugged his jacket off and tossed it over the back of the couch. "I'm going to bed. You can come if you want, just don't expect to get any. I'm too drunk to put out." Greg disappeared behind a door, leaving Gil standing shocked in the living room. Did Greg just hit on him?

Gil heard a thump from the bedroom and was on his way to check on him, when a picture on the coffee table caught his eye. He picked it up to get a better look. It was a picture of Greg leaning over a birthday cake, another man behind him, with his arm's wrapped around Greg's waist and his chin resting on Greg's shoulder. The picture had been taken mid laugh, and suddenly he felt like he was intruding on a very private moment. He replaced the picture, and continued on to the bedroom, giving a brief knock before entering.

The room was painted a dark midnight blue color, and the only furniture was a king-size bed, and a dresser. The room was as cold as a meat locker due to the window unit cranked to high. "Greg?" he called not seeing the drunk man anywhere.

"In here!" came the muffled reply. Gil looked around and found the only obvious choice, a door a few feet away from him. He pulled the door open and a very drunk Greg Sanders fell on top of him, knocking them both to the floor.

"Ouch!" Greg moaned rubbing his head. "That hurt! You okay Gris? Gris?"

"I'm under you Greg," Gil hissed. Greg quickly rolled off Gil and to the floor.

"Sorry," Greg said with a goofy smile. "I was trying to find some pajamas."

It was at that moment that Gil realized Greg was wearing only Scooby Doo boxers, and a nipple ring. He groaned and let his head fall back against the floor.

"Gil?" Greg asked. "You okay?" He ignored Greg and closed his eyes. Sometimes his life was just too unreal to believe.

"Hey, are you unconscious?"

"No Greggo," he said sitting up slowly. "I'm fine." Greg sat up and looked at Grissom. "Are you sure? What if your brain is bleeding and you die in your sleep? It'd be all my fault!"

"Greg!" Gil said grabbing the sides of the other man's face. "I'm fine. I do not have anything wrong with my brain. I will not die in my sleep. Nothing will be your fault. Okay?"

Greg nodded slowly, and Gil released his face. In a second Grissom was pinned to the floor with Greg on top of him. "Greg what are –" All words were cut off when Greg pressed his lips to the to Gil's. Gil froze as Greg's tongue touched his bottom lip and slid into his mouth. Gil snapped out of his shock and pushed Greg off him.

"Oops," Greg giggled.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded of the other man who looked very pleased with his self.

"Well, I wanted to kiss you, but then I thought 'probably shouldn't' then I decided that I shouldn't listen to myself because I'm drunk."

Gil sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You really need to sleep this off Greg." Gil stood up and pulled the covers on the bed back. "C'mon," he gestured.

Greg crawled into the bed and pulled the covers up around his neck. "Night night."

Gil made sure Greg's alarm was set before switching out the lights. He repressed the urge to laugh as he saw the hundreds of glow in the dark plastic stars that adorned Greg's ceiling. They cast an eerie green glow around the room, and over Greg as he slept peacefully. He let him self out of the apartment silently, and turned to find a very shocked Sara watching him.

"I can explain," he started, but stopped when she held up her hand.

She gave him her signature smirk, "It's about damn time."

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He he he. I love Gil and Greg together. They're so cute…Not sure if I'll continue this, or leave it, let me know in a review. Thanks Emilia


	2. Chapter 2

Emilia fighting savagely with her Muse

"No Muse! Actions is a one shot! Meant only to tease and tempt the readers into choosing their own ending!"

Muse holds Emilia down and bitch slaps her

"Write a second part! With a blushing Gil and a hungover Greg!"

"What if I've waited too long and the readers aren't interested anymore? What if they hate me?"

Muse pets Emilia's head

"They could never hate you, and never be uninterested in Gil and Greg. Especially with me around."

Muse hits Emilia one last time

"Now write the damn second part!"

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Gil sat in his office the next night, unable to work for the streaming thoughts in his head. Thoughts of Greg on top of him, and the taste of Tequila on his tongue, and how long it had been since he'd been that close to anyone. Probably years, three at least he finally concluded. Three long years since he'd experienced anything even remotely sexual that didn't include his hand. And that feeling that rippled through him when Greg had kissed him, that was lust. Pure animalistic lust. The kind that makes you forget everything, your name, your hair color, and the fact that the person causing that feeling is your subordinate, and young enough to be your son.

He ran a hand through his already rumpled hair, and let his forehead fall hard onto his desk. Maybe it would knock some sense into him, and keep him from lusting after spiky haired boys. It was ridiculous after all, he wasn't capable of having a real relationship with anyone. He was emotionally closed off, and...Oh what was it James had said right before he left? Mechanical. Yep, that's what he'd called him. Mechanical. And Sara had confirmed when she had wished she could be like him and quote "not feel anything." He lifted his head up a few inches and let it smack the desktop again.

"Ya know, you keep that up and you're liable to knock something loose." Gil looked up slowly to see a smiling Greg leaning against the doorframe. "Good morning Sunshine!" he said cheerfully walking in and shutting the door behind him. "We need to talk about last night."

Gil let his head thump once more against the desk.

"Keep that up, and you won't be nearly as pretty as you are sans ugly bruise."

Gil sat up then, and noticed the sunglasses Greg was wearing. "Is the hangover the reason for the Ray Charles impersonation?"

"Ha ha chuckles. I'll have you know that bloodshot compliments brown eyes beautifully. These are for shooting lasers at people."

"Why are you here?" Grissom asked feeling uncomfortable at Greg's presence.

The younger man took off the glasses. "I just wanted you to know that I remember everything from last night, start to finish, and that I don't regret any of it."

Grissom's mouth went dry, "You kissed me."

Greg smiled wickedly, "Yeah, that was my favorite part." The smile grew when he saw Grissom's cheeks turn a becoming shade of red. "Don't be embarassed, you were pretty good for a guy caught off guard. But if you're really that upset about your performance, I'd be willing to give you a do over."

Grissom was speechless. Greg had been here less than two minutes, and he was already speechless. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. "Seriously Greg, why are you here?"

"I told you I wanted to talk about last night. I enjoyed the kissing part, and was hoping that you would like to continue that after shift."

Grissom shook his head, "I don't think so Greg."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why?" Greg repeated. "I want a legitimate reason please."

"I'm your boss."

"I wouldn't expect special treatment, in fact I'd be kinda pissed if I got it. I like to do things on my own. Next."

"I'm 46 years old. I could be your father."

"Jeez, overdramatic much? I'm 31, and my father didn't become a father until he was 39, he's got 24 years on you."

"Greg, I'm not good at relationships. You'd inevitably get hurt."

"I'm not looking for a relationship Grissom. I went down that road, it wasn't for me."

"What do you want us to be then?" Grissom asked not catching on.

"Friends with benefits."

"This just doesn't seem like a good idea to me. Too risky."

"Too risky?" Greg asked incredulously. "This coming from the man who's been known to taste things at crime scenes?"

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose, "It just wouldn't work out Greg."

"You never know until you try."

Grissom looked at the young man in front of him. He looked sincere, and sounded sincere, and the offer was oh so tempting. It boosted Gil's ego to know that Greg was practically begging him to take him to bed. His ego wasn't the only thing boosted as he thought about being wrapped up in nothing but sheets and Greg. It took only a moment to decide. "You know if anyone ever found out, they'd think I was having a mid-life crisis."

Greg smirked, "Please Gil, I'm cheaper than a sports car."

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Sara pounced on Greg at the end of shift, pinning him against a locker. "I want every single detail, and I want them now."

He played dumb. "What details?"

"Don't bullshit me Greg! I saw Grissom coming out of your apartment last night."

Greg pretended to think for a moment, "Oh! I was out drinking, and Grissom made sure I got home safe. Wasn't that nice of him?" He slithered out of Sara's grip and opened his locker. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got plans."

"With who?" she demanded.

"Oh, a certain guy. About 6 feet tall, pale blue eyes, salt and pepper hair..."

"You man whore!" she shouted. "You lying man whore!"

"Calm down Sara. It's no big deal."

"Then why didn't you tell me about it? I'm your best friend."

"Yes babe, you are, and I'm telling you now. Oh, but just in case don't show up at my apartment unannounced in the next 12 hours. You might catch an eyefull of something you don't want to see." He slammed his locker shut and pranced off. "Ta ta for now."

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Greg unlocked the door and rushed inside. He had ten minutes before Gil was supposed to be there, and he had to do a quick clean up job. He tossed all his dirty clothes in his closet and shut the door, then changed the sheets on his bed, and fished the new toothbrush out from under his sink. There was a sharp knock on the door, and Greg took one last look around the apartment before answering it. "Hey," he said casually, stepping back and allowing Gil in.

"Hello," Gil greeted.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Greg made a move, pushing the older man against the door. His mouth hovered an inch away from Gil's. "What's with me always having to make the first move huh?" He sealed his mouth over the older man's, slipping his tongue in and out in a suggestive motion, and nibbling at his lower lip gently. Without warning, Grissom turned him around so that he was the one pinned against the door.

"How's that for making a move?" Gil asked pushing his hips into Greg's. The younger man just grinned before crashing their lips together again. Greg's fingers deftly worked on the buttons of Gil's shirt, until it was all the way open and he was sliding it down to the floor. He broke the kiss to shuck his own shirt, and Gil's hand found the pierced nipple. He flicked it a few times, sending a shiver down Greg's spine. "This," Gil said leaning down to lick the nipple, "is sexy."

Greg looked at him with eyes the color of scotch, and rubbed their erections together. "Bedroom. Now." Gil pulled him through the living room, and into the familiar bedroom. He was clinging desperately to the other man, licking and sucking the spot just below his ear. Gil's soft moan was the biggest turn on he'd ever experienced in his life. He stepped back and began to strip him self, hands beginning to shake when Gil followed suit.

He pushed his boss back onto the bed, before crawling over top of him. He let his mouth wander from his lips, to his neck, down his chest, then finally stop just above Gil's hardness. He wrapped a hand around the base and swallowed the head at the same time hearing the whoosh of breath that escaped Gil when he did. He felt a hand fist tightly into his hair, not guiding, just resting. He sucked delicately, running his tongue in a circular motion around the tip, feeling the hot skin twitch in his mouth.

Gil was squirming under the wet mouth, and trying to hold out. Watching Greg's spiky hair bob up and down was almost enough to send him over the edge. He clutched the bedspread with one hand, and Greg's hair with the other, intent on making this exquisite torture last. At that moment, Greg let his teeth barely graze over the sensitive skin of his dick, and without warning Gil was cumming hard, bucking his hips off the bed and moaning Greg's name loudly. A few moment's later, Gil felt Greg's weight settle on top of him. He brushed their lips together lightly.

"That," Greg stressed, "was sexy."

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Emilia beats Muse over head with shoe

"This was not supposed to be smutty!"

Muse steals shoe from Emilia and holds it away from her

"Chillax! Everyone loves a good Gil/Greg blowjob scene. We haven't even hit the hardcore stuff yet."

"There won't be any hardcore stuff! This was supposed to be light and sappy. No more sex!"

Emilia storms off and Muse grins evilly

"Until next chapter!"


End file.
